


The Ship of Dreams

by mormor221b



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types, Titanic (1997)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:48:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mormor221b/pseuds/mormor221b
Summary: "Where to, sir?" "To the stars!"Quentin Holmes comes from an aristocratic family and is set to be married to a woman he has no interest in with whom he'll live a life he had no choice in. James Bond is a man who lives his life by the day and spends his time seizing new opportunities to do anything and go anywhere, the only caveat being that he spends most of his time alone. When Quentin boards the Titanic, he meets James Bond.  Suddenly, Quentin doesn't give a damn about any of those plans and James thinks he might not want to be alone anymore because love has a sneaky way of messing everything up.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. This fic is what it says on the tin. James Bond and Q meets Titanic. It's based on the movie so whilst there'll be definitely be similarities, it's my take on it. Get ready for a hell of a lot of angst, and maybe just a little bit of fluff to balance things out. I haven't put any archive warnings but that might change so beware. Hope you like it! Remember to comment :)

“James, you’re an idiot. You’ve bet everything we have.” Alec groaned, slumping back in his seat as he stared back at his disappointing cards before knocking back the rest of his glass of whiskey. Of course James had gotten him twisted up in another one of his ambitious, hare-brained plans and of course they were going to lose. His cards were awful and Sven seemed to have a smug look in his eye, there was no way they even had a fighting chance.

“When you’ve got nothing, you’ve got nothing to lose.” James replied, taking another deep drag from his cheap cigarette before turning back to the other men around the table, meeting their eyes slowly before looking back to the ticket on the table amongst a pool of coins and a few scattered notes. The big prize. Two third-class tickets for the Titanic.

“Alright, this is the moment of truth, boys. Somebody’s life is about to change."

He watched carefully as they went back around the table. Alec’s stormy expression said it all as he slammed his cards onto the table. Nothing.

“Olaf?”

Olaf’s face carried the same resignation Alec’s had as he too tossed his cards onto the table. Nothing.

He could hear Alec’s breath hitch as Olaf’s brother, Sven, put down a two pair.

“I’m sorry, Alec.” James sighed, glancing over at him.

“Что вы имеете в виду извините? Ты идиот!!” He cursed, glaring at his best friend. “Did you bet all of our money-”

“-I’m sorry, you’re not going to be able to see your other friends again for quite a while.” He interrupted, biting back a grin at Alec’s confused expression. As soon as he saw a glimpse of recognition flash in his eyes, he continued.

“Because we’re going to America! Full house, lads.” James grinned, slamming his cards face up onto the table. He turned to face Alec and nodded before they jumped up, cheering in unison. Alec had grabbed the tickets, dancing around the bar with them, whilst James reached forward to collect the money part of their winnings. He quickly dodged the Sven’s hand which had clenched into a fist to punch him before wrapping an arm around Alec’s shoulders whose grin now spanned his entire face.

“We’re going to America!” Alec called out, holding on tightly to James. Before James could reply, the bartender interrupted their celebrations. 

“No, mate, the Titanic is going to America. In five minutes.”

James’ eyes widened and he quickly grabbed the rest of the money, the tickets and his bag before running out of the bar, Alec hot on his heels. “Come on, you lazy arse. Hurry up! We’re gonna be riding in style now.” He grinned, sprinting as fast as he could to get to the entrance.

“You’re an idiot.” Alec called out as he chased after James, unable to stop himself from catching the contagious smile James was sporting.

“Maybe, but I’ve got the tickets.”

They leapt onto the bridge connected to the ship, yelling at the stewards to stop and wait for them. He waved the ticket at the man as they ran across. “We’re passengers!” He called, coming to a stop just in front of the ship where a uniformed man looked at them, torn between what to do.

“Have you been through inspection?”

“Of course, what do you take us for?” Alec added as he caught up to them. Both blondes stared right at the man who looked at their matching grins and then the dock men, tapping their watches impatiently at him. 

“Alright, come aboard.” He nodded, stepping aside to let the two of them enter.

“We’re the luckiest pair of fuckers in the world.” James grinned as they walked through the corridor to their room which was, in what they thought was, on the biggest and best ship in the world.


	2. The First Lunch

Quentin Holmes stepped out of the carriage and looked up at the massive cruise-liner in front of him, a bored expression painted on his delicate features.

“I don’t see what all the fuss is about.” He said, turning around to help his fiancée, Emilia, out of the carriage. “It doesn’t look any bigger than Mauretania.”

“Quentin. You can be blasé about some things but not the Titanic.” Her father, Lord Augustus Moran, replied as he shook his head. “It’s over 100 feet longer than the Mauretania and far more luxurious.” He continued before turning back around to help Quentin’s mother out of the carriage. “Your son is a hard man to impress.” He smiled ruefully.

Quentin rolled his eyes before turning to look around the dock they were stood on. On the right of him were their carriages and mountains of luggage waiting to be loaded on the ship by some poor steward that Augustus had probably paid off. It was what was to the left of him that he was more curious about. The people who wouldn’t be in first class and whom he likely wouldn’t even see again from where they would be staying. His eyes followed the crammed crowds of passengers and the inspection queues where officers were checking for lice or anything else they would deem unhygienic. Before he could even properly understand what he was seeing, he was led onto the ship where the stewards were all politely welcoming them, the picture of poise and decorum. 

Quentin himself was the image of a well-brought up man but inside he was screaming to just get away for it all. To just turn around and run as far as his legs could carry him. Instead, he followed his family onto the ship, each step heavier than the last as he felt he was walking further and further away from freedom.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“She’s the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history.” The chairman of the White Star Line company, Mr Ismay, told them. He was sat at the head of the table and paused the conversation as a waiter poured wine into his glass. “And our master shipbuilder, Mr Andrews here, designed her from the keel plates up.

Mr Andrews offered the rest of the occupants of the table a shy smile, shaking his head. “I may have knocked her together but the idea was Mr Ismay’s.” He replied humbly. “He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale and so luxurious in its appointments that its supremacy would never be challenged.”

Quentin simply nodded along, already quite bored with how dull the conversation was. Instead, he lit up a rough cigar and took a deep drag, wondering what the hell he was doing here. He was dragged from his thoughts by his mother who had been sitting adjacent to him and had leaned in close to speak to him.

“You know I don’t like that, Quentin.” She said coolly.

Quentin turned to face her, eyes cold and eyebrows arched as he pulled the cigar back and let out a puff of smoke in front of her face. He was too busy staring at his mother to avoid Emilia from pulling the cigarette from between his fingers and putting it out. 

“He knows.” She replied to Mrs Holmes, paying little mind to the look of surprise and frustration on Q’s face.

“We’ll both have the lamb. Rare, with very little mint sauce.” She continued, nodding her dismissal to the waiter before turning back to Quentin. “You do like lamb, right, darling?” She asked.

He turned to look at her and gave her his brightest and fakest smile in response. A moment of silence fell over the table but Mrs Holmes was quick to stop that, ever the hostess even if she didn’t own the ship.

“So who did think of the name of the ship?” She asked. “Was it you, Mr Ismay?” She smiled, looking at the man across the table from her.

“It was actually.” He nodded proudly. “I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength.”

“Do you know of Dr Freud, Mr Ismay?” Quentin asked, a small smirk playing on his lips. “His ideas of some men’s preoccupation with size may be of interest to you.” He continued, noting Mr Andrew’s eyes gleam in amusement and the soft laugh that he did his best to keep quiet.

Mrs Holmes, on the other hand, did not find it funny at all and leaned back in to reprimand her son. “What has gotten into you?” She hissed, sparing a glance at the rest of the table to make sure they had not heard her. 

“Excuse me.” Quentin replied before getting up and walking away. He headed straight onto the deck, eager to get away from the stuffiness of the private dining room. He held onto the railing as he took a deep breath, taking in all the fresh air and looking out onto the never-ending stretch of sea in front of him. He had no idea how many more of those kind of lunches and dinners he could handle and this had only been the first. Not to mention how his mother, Emilia and Lord Moran would always be always breathing down his neck. He gripped the railing tighter and closed his eyes, trying to focus on the small things like the feeling of warm sunshine on his face. He couldn’t help but imagine a life without the rich, aristocrats and boring, restricting rules that seemed to permanently surround him. Perhaps somewhere exotic. Anywhere would do as long as it was somewhere far, far away from here.


	3. Emerald Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're still enjoying this fic haha. Thank you for continuing to read it till this far. Please remember to comment and leave kudos :)

“Can’t get a better ship than this, huh?” Alec grinned as he sat beside James on the deck who was focused on his sketchbook, drawing a nearby family who were happily enjoying their time together on the ship.  
“Yeah, it’s a big old ship, alright.” The man standing beside them told them, leaning back on the railing as he looked over every bolt and every panel of wood put together. “15,000 men put this together-“He started before pausing as he watched a steward walk a bunch of dogs around their deck. “-First class dogs come down here to take a dump.” He continued, taking another drag from his cigarette. 

James looked up from his sketchbook and chuckled softly, “Lets us know our rank, huh?”

“As if we could ever forget.” The man replied before reaching over to extend a hand.

“I’m Felix Leiter.”

“James Bond.” He nodded, shaking the man’s hand before Felix pulled back to introduce himself to Alec.

“So, do you make any money with that?” He asked, nodding at the sketchbook in his hands.

Before James could reply, a flicker of sunshine caught his eye. He looked at the deck above them and completely paused everything as he saw a young, beautiful man walking out to the railings. He was enthralled as he watched him move gracefully, focusing on the small curve of his lips when the man leaned up to feel the sunshine on his face. He took note of his pale complexion which seemed to shine in the light and if he were to guess, he'd say that his skin would be rather soft. His eyes slowly moved up to his curly, lustrous hair which was artfully styled and James couldn't help the strong feeling that told him it would be silky to the touch. 

Felix noticed how abruptly James had stopped speaking and followed his gaze before shaking his head. He knew that look and shared a glance with Alec. “Forget it, lad. It’s far more likely that this ship will sink than you having the chance to get close to him, even if it just as a friend.” He hummed, smiling knowingly.

James barely registered Felix’s words as he continued looking at him, unable to tear his eyes away. The man had such a miserable expression and James thought it was a damn shame to see such sadness on such a beautiful face. 

Alec had also noticed how James was staring at the deck above and nudged his shoulder playfully but to no avail. Nothing could take James’ focus away from the mysterious man above.  
As the man looked around the ship, James caught a glimpse of his eyes behind his glasses. They were the most beautiful shade of green, almost as if his eyes were pure emerald. For a moment, he felt as though the man had seen him and looked right at him before he turned back to staring at the sea in front. His breath hitched as he saw a man dressed in an expensive tweed suit walk out and take the object of his interest by the arm. The beautiful man turned around and judging by the expressions of the two men, they shared some harsh words before the beautiful man pulled away and stormed off. 

Alec and Felix watched James throughout before shaking their heads.

“Come on, mate, let’s go.” Alec tried, nudging him by the shoulder again.

“He’s right, come on, I’ll buy you a drink at the bar.” Felix nodded.

James finally tore his eyes away and looked back at the two men waiting for his response. He reluctantly got up, taking one last look at the deck above before nodding and following the two men to the bar. Perhaps a drink might distract him but he already knew nothing could stop him from thinking about the beautiful mystery man and those emerald eyes which had completely captured his attention.


	4. A Thousand Knives

Quentin felt the loneliest he had ever felt from where he was sat in a busy and bustling dining room. All around him were men and women in their finest frocks and suits as well as the occasional sharply dressed waiter, taking orders or serving drinks. The ornately decorated room was wasted on Quentin as he spent his time staring at the plate in front of him, desperately trying to escape his reality.

Lord Moran sat to the left of him, conversing with another aristocrat on property prices, and to the right of him his mother was talking to another one of their acquaintances about a topic that couldn’t possibly matter any less. He quickly realised that this would be his life, endless parties and balls and yachts and lacrosse. He would always converse with the same circles of society filled with narrow-minded, rich families and the same mindless, snobbish chatter. The soft orchestral music floating throughout the room did nothing to soothe how suffocated he felt. Before he knew it, he had excused himself from the table and ran out onto the desk, going as fast as his legs would let him. 

He grabbed onto a bench on his way, using it to push him into a turn as he continued to sprint. He didn’t notice the blonde man on the bench who had been lying down and looking up at the stars. James.

James smoked his cigarette slowly, looking up at the bright skies above him and thinking back to earlier that morning. Back to the beautiful man he had spotted on the deck. Despite, Alec and Felix taking him to the bar and their attempts at distraction James had not forgotten him at all. He thought back to the forlorn expression on his face and wondered what could have caused that amount of sadness. He let out a soft sigh and moved to take another puff of his cigarette when a flash of colour ran past him. He immediately sat up and took notice, watching whomever it was run to the very edge of the stern. He followed the man all the way to the back of the boat, taking slow steps when he saw that the man was already standing outside of the railings with only his hands holding him onto the boat. 

“Don’t do it.” He said softly, breath catching in his throat when the person turned around and he realised it was the same man from the deck earlier.

“Don’t come near me!” Quentin replied quickly, sparing a glance back at the man who had called out to him.

“Don’t do it.” James repeated. “Just give me your hand and I can pull you back over.” He continued, stepping forward.

“No! Do your ears not work or are you just rude enough to ignore what I say? Stay back! I’ll let go if you come closer!” He exclaimed, turning back to look down at the water in front of him. The propellers of the ship were working at full force, making the waves appear frantic and merciless.

James slowly motioned to his cigarette and took another step closer as he tossed his cigarette overboard. He took a moment to look down at the seat in front of them before turning back to the man. “No, no, you won’t.” He said slowly but confidently.

Quentin looked at him in surprised, expression twisting into something that James knew all too well. The look of superiority and disdain that someone had dared contract them. “Don’t you dare assume you can tell me what I will or won’t do. You don’t know me at all and you certainly do not have the power to make decisions for me!”

“Well, wouldn’t you have already done it by now then?” James countered, never taking his eyes off of him.

“Just leave me alone.” Quentin insisted, turning away to face the ocean again. 

“The thing is I’m afraid I can’t do that. If you let go, well…I’ll have to jump in after you.” He replied, shrugging off his jacket before kneeling down to undo the laces on his combat boots.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Quentin replied, rolling his eyes. 

“That’s alright, I’m quite good at swimming.”

“No, you idiot, the fall itself would kill you.” 

“It’s the water I’m more concerned about. It’ll be freezing, perhaps one or two degrees at best. Ever been to Scotland?” He asked, glancing up from his laces when he felt the man’s eyes on him.  
“What? No. Look-” Quentin replied, confused about what the blonde was on about but was more focused on getting the other man to leave.

“-I grew up there.” James interrupted, knowing full well he had gotten the man’s attention from the look of surprise on his face at his interruption. And that he knew he needed to keep it in order to save him. “Got some of the coldest winters around. I remember when I was a kid, my father took me out ice fishing. And I fell through some thin ice and till this day, it’s still the worst thing I’ve ever been through. Water that cold…” He paused, sucking in the air through his teeth before continuing. “Hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body.”

Quentin looked over at him, pausing in thought. Actually, that did sound rather painful.

“That’s why I’m not looking forward to jumping in there after you but I don’t have a choice now so I’m ready.” He nodded, pulling his boots off. “To tell you the truth, I’m holding onto the hope that you’ll come back over. Spare me from agony.”

“You’re crazy.” Quentin replied, turning back. 

“Sure, my best mate Alec says that about me all the time. But with all the respect in the world, sir, I’m not the one hanging off the back of a ship here, am I?” He countered, extending his hand to him. “You don’t want to do this.”

“You mean you don’t want to jump in too. How selfish…” Quentin countered before sighing and slowly taking the offered hand. He held on firmly as he slowly turned around to face the blonde in front of him.

“I’m James Bond. And I’m really selfish.” He smiled softly.

“Quentin Sherrinford Holmes.” He replied with a quiet chuckle.

“Hell of a name, I do hope you gave your parents hell for that.” He laughed softly, sharing a soft smile with Quentin. “Now come on, let’s get you back over.”


End file.
